


Bar Games for Fun and Profit.

by AStupidUserName420



Category: American History RPF, French Revolution RPF, Renaissance RPF, Shakespeare - Fandom, Victorian RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Everything is made up and time doesn't matter, Fluff, Humor, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I should really be stopped, M/M, Multi, This Is STUPID
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 06:30:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15880461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AStupidUserName420/pseuds/AStupidUserName420
Summary: Oscar Wilde, William Shakespeare and Leonardo play a pub game. Leonardo, as he will, changes the rules like a bastard.





	Bar Games for Fun and Profit.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Everyone is writing such beautiful fic these days and I’m over here like, “May I offer you a potato in these trying times?”  
> But for real though, you are all gorgeous wonderful people and I miss you daily. I’m sorry I haven’t been around, but I promise I will be back. I owe so many of you comments on your content. <3 <3 <3  
> P.S. I solemnly swear to never try to write Oscar again, as I am not anywhere witty enough.  
> P.P.S. I hope I never write something this incredibly vapid again either.

There were three bottles of wine on the table and it was only nine in the evening. Oscar propped his head on his hand and surveyed his drinking companions. 

 

Leonardo could always be depended on to hold his own, taking idle sips from his red, every hair still perfectly in place. Bill, on the other hand, was looking increasingly flushed, laughing at the music playing over the classy pub that Oscar had chosen for their weekly ‘creative brain trust’ meeting. Which had slowly devolved into weekly bitching sessions about their patrons and exes. 

 

Oscar side-eyed his companions who were discussing this week’s petty slights. He sighed and managed to get both of them to look at him.

 

“Yes, Oz? Something you want to say?” Bill knocked his shoulder roughly against him, nearly making Oscar spill his drink. 

 

“The two of you are boring me, frankly. I’m afraid we are going to have to cease having these tete-a-tete’s if we can’t find something more interesting than your constant scandals,  _ love _ ,” he returned sweetly. 

 

“Ever grateful,  _ darling. _ ” Bill saluted him. Leo raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side. 

 

“Well, what do you want to do, mio amico?” 

 

Oscar cast his gaze around the room, eyeing up their fellow patrons. It was Thursday, so quiet but enough business to make the room feel alive. 

 

“How about we play a game?” He suggested. Bill and Leonardo leaned in as Oscar explained. “We each pick someone in this room that we think we have a chance of going home with. The other two will judge the likelihood and decide if the other needs to make good on his gamble.” 

 

Bill grinned at him. “Sounds like my type of game Oz. I’m on.” 

 

Leonardo however objected. “I’m calling foul. The two of you have double the targets.” He flicked his fingers at them.

 

Oscar adopted a look of theatrical contrition. “Oh poor darling. We can even the playing field for you, Leo, and keep it only to the gentlemen.” 

 

Leonardo dipped his head. “Your charity is an example to us all, Oz. Alright, shall we get on?”

 

For a few minutes, all three men studied the crowd, picking potential romantic targets. Oscar swept his eyes over the bar, skipping past the obvious couples. He finally found his mark: a lone man who looked to be around 30, sitting in a booth, with an array of books and maps spread out. His hair was rapidly turning silver, but when Oscar caught sight of his eyes, they had an almost primordial fire burning within them. (1)

 

He smiled absently, wondering about the man. 

 

A journalist? A soldier? There was a stern tilt to his shoulders. He was knocking back his drink with a self-assured confidence. Perhaps a graduate of some university, here on holiday. 

 

Oscar was startled from his musings by Bill, who knocked him on the shoulder again. 

 

“Alright, I’ve got mine. How bout it Oz?” 

 

“Yes. Leonardo?” 

 

“Si.” He pulled a coin from his pocket and flipped it into the air. “Call it.” 

 

“Tails,” Oscar barked before Bill could speak. The other man scowled when Leonardo lifted his hand. 

 

“Alright, who did you pick?” The Englishman demanded, finishing his wine and then pouring himself more. 

 

Oscar subtly nodded to the booth. “The one who is going to turn silver before Bill goes bald.” 

 

“Oi!” 

 

“It is true, love.”

 

Leonardo studied Oscar’s mark. “I think…not.”

 

He and Bill looked around at the Italian. “Why not?” 

 

Leonardo shrugged. “He’s clearly waiting on someone. Look, he’s checking his phone every few minutes, followed by drinking. He’s anxious, trying to get up the nerve to approach someone from a comfortable distance.” 

“He could just be waiting on travel info. Look at all those bloody maps,” Bill gestured. “Also it might be really good whiskey.”

 

“He’s drinking Canadian Mist,” Leonardo returned dryly. “He knows where he’s going already, he hasn’t changed the positions of the maps once.”

 

Oscar looked at his target again, tilting his head. “Who do you think he’s waiting on?” 

 

Leonardo paused. “A friend he wants more from,” he finally declared dramatically. Bill snorted. 

 

“Sod off you dramatic prat. It’s a girl. It’s always a girl,” he added with an air of finality. (2)

 

Leonardo waved between them. “Pot, kettle.” He looked at Oscar. “Regardless, I don’t think you’re going home with him.” 

 

Oscar conceded the round and flipped the coin again, this time with Bill winning. 

 

“The one at the bar. Tall, ginger, and cheekbones so sharp I could cut myself on them,” he sighed. Oscar rolled his eyes while Leo wrinkled his nose. 

 

“Did you just quote your own material at us?”

 

“Absolutely.” 

 

Oscar eyed Bill’s choice. He was very handsome, with clear blue eyes and a peachy complexion. His profile was sharp but non-threatening. He would likely make a good presence on stage. (3)

 

Leonardo however, snorted again. “I’m going to be two for two. No.” 

 

“And why not?” Bill snapped. 

 

“Well for one he’s here to cheat on his spouse, look at his finger when he takes a sip of his, what is that, his  _ mojito _ . There’s a tan line from the ring.”

 

Bill’s jaw dropped as the man did just that and they could see, clear as day, the strip of lighter colored skin. Oscar couldn’t contain his laughter and was nearly pushed out of his chair for it. 

 

“Alright then, if you’re so clever, you show us how it’s done,” Bill said sourly. Leonardo smiled serenely and gestured to the bar. 

 

“Under the lights, two seats from the door.” 

 

Oscar looked, then blinked. “Which one?”

 

The two men at the bar were clearly together, you didn’t need to be a super observant genius to see that. Even as Oscar watched the younger man leaned over and pushed a stray curl out of the other’s face.

 

They both had a look that one could charitably be described as striking. The taller younger looking of the two seemed to have come in out of a youth fashion mag, with eyeliner, earrings, and a floral patterned scarf over layers of black, grey and leather. The other older gentleman was going white at the temples and wore glasses that gave off a strong Elton John vibe. Oscar tilted his head consideringly. 

 

Honestly either could be Leonardo’s type, it seemed to switch from week to week. There was even time where the artist swore he’d given up on men and he was going to marry a cartoon character named ‘Light Yagami’. (4)  

 

Leo shrugged. “Both. You never said it couldn’t be a couple.” 

 

“Oh come off it, Leonardo,” Bill said. “You can not.” 

 

“Care to wager? You cover the tab and the cost home?” Leo suggested. Bill grinned. 

 

“To see you walk over there and make an ass out of yourself? I’ll cover this tab and the next.”

 

Leonardo smiled and rose from his seat. “Observe gentlemen.” 

 

Oscar and Bill watched as he made his way over to the bar, sliding into the free seat behind the shorter man, who twisted his head around to look at him, glasses reflecting the light. Leonardo leaned forward bracing his arm on the bar. He gestured to their drinks and waved the bartender over.  

 

“There’s no way. No one is that good,” Bill muttered under his breath. Oscar waited to see if the men were going to tell Leo to move along. 

 

But the minutes went on and both men accepted their drinks, seemingly allowing Leonardo into their conversation. He laughed and smiled. He tilted his head and sent wave after wave of messages. At one point he reached over and gently touched the younger man’s lip piercing, letting his thumb linger. 

 

“No fucking way,” Bill moaned, head dropping onto the table. “That sod.” 

 

Oscar watched as the older, more delicate looking of the two reached out and stroked his fingers over the top of Leonardo’s knee. They spoke for a moment and Leonardo nodded. 

 

Leonardo smiled and held up his finger, before walking back over to their table. 

 

“What happened?” Bill demanded, looking up. Oscar watched as the other two men seemed to confer, smirking at each other. 

 

Someone was headed for an interesting night.  

 

“I’m leaving,” Leonardo said simply, grinning wickedly. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the Globe, but I might be late.” He leaned in closer and stage-whispered, “I don’t know how far away their flat is.” 

 

Bill’s shout of horror and rage made several people turn around. Oscar dissolved into helpless laughter again.

 

XXX

 

8 am the next day. 

Oscar was already up, pounding away at his keyboard when his mobile went off. He glanced over and saw that Leonardo had texted. 

Oscar opened it.

 

From Leonardo :

(Image Attached.)

Just in case you required evidence. Billy did say both rounds were on him, correct?

 

Oscar opened the picture and saw an exceptionally mused Leonardo holding his phone at an angle so one could see the two men from the bar sleeping next to him. Leonardo had a cat in cream expression and kiss marks on his shoulders. 

 

Within moments his phone beeped again, with Bill’s reply. 

 

From Shakespeare:

THAT FUCKING BASTARD. 

  
  


Fin.         

XXX

  1. Oz is mooning over Meriwether Lewis.
  2. Leo is right. Meriwether is mooning over William Clark. Also, Canadian Mist is gross and cheap whiskey.
  3. It’s Alexander Hamilton. Because I like to think I am funny.
  4. Shameful headcanon time. You can pry the concept of Modern!Leonardo liking anime out of my cold dead fingers.




End file.
